At the least, if there be few of us left, the most of the wolves are dead also, and the arms of the wizards grow weary." So he moved forward up the mountain with those of the soldiers who remained, and all the way the wolves harried them, pulling down a man here and a man there; but though they heard and saw them cheering on their pack the Wolf-Brethren attacked them no more, for they saved their strength for the last fight of all.
The road was long up the mountain, and the soldiers knew little of the path, and ever the ghost-wolves harried on their flanks.

So it was evening before they came to the feet of the stone Witch, and began to climb to the platform of her knees.

There, on her knees as it were, they saw the Wolf-Brethren standing side by side, such a pair as were not elsewhere in the world, and they seemed afire, for the sunset beat upon them, and the wolves crept round their feet, red with blood and fire.
"A glorious pair!" quoth great Faku; "would that I fought with them rather than against them! Yet, they must die!" Then he began to climb to the knees of the Witch.
Now Umslopogaas glanced up at the stone face of her who sat aloft, and it was alight with the sunset.
"Said I not that the old Witch should smile at this fray ?" he cried.
"Lo! she smiles! Up, Galazi, let us spend the remnant of our people on the foe, and fight this fight out, man to man, with no beast to spoil it! Ho! Blood and Greysnout! ho! Deathgrip! ho! wood-dwellers grey and black, at them, my children!" The wolves heard; they were few and they were sorry to see, with weariness and wounds, but still they were fierce.

With a howl, for the last time they leaped down upon the foe, tearing, harrying, and killing till they themselves were dead by the spear, every one of them except Deathgrip, who crept back sorely wounded to die with Galazi.
"Now I am a chief without a people," cried Galazi.

"Well, it has been my lot in life.